You tell me to be myself, Yet you try to fix my every flaw. You tell me not to do anything bad, Yet I see you breaking your own law. You tell me to change the world, Yet you do nothing yourself. You tell me to use my skills for good, Yet your talents lie on a...
Tania With nothing but a couple of belongings in her hand, a cerulean color diary, and her favorite stuffed animal, a pink and white-colored giraffe that her grandmother gave her a few years ago, 10-year-old Tania boards a plane with her mother, father, and...
Spilling out from every crevice of society Dark red tendrils choking the necks of the Black and the Brown, Of the Indigenous, of the Latinx, of the folx who are Transgender And I’m screaming, my voice hoarse and until the white fist renders Me useless ...
And every time she opens her mouth to speak, flowers take a fall from her lips. Her at times strange self attracts me in ways I strangely can't understand. She was the earliest snowdrop to blossom. The only snowdrop whose three white pedals crawl swiftly underneath...
swish, goes the scraps into the trees long and gone, up to your kneeswrists twist, teeth clacks snapping in dissonant feelings of deepened anxiety ropes of gum collect, spillage springs from the lever, hurtling, slicing through the darkened sky a second ticking post –...
breaks into you collapse your arteries, implode your bones a dollop of essence sinks, sloshing in an airy primeval goblet set with dripping stones rimming blackened edges with hot wax post – one rusty vigorous shaker black ice crawls, swirls over the glazed solid the...
webbed row-by-row, hanging from pinpoints under the sky buildings of inky grey and black, swirls melting across their borders a shadow of what-if events drained away breathless, collapse on your back muted, lolls your head, hear the monitor beep… beep… beep… kicking...
so many tragedies coursing through this blood, alive and electric, haunted by Phlegethon’s unnavigable currents humming like a razorblade pressed to skin. when night falls: a poet, a jester, a spectator, speechless at where your kneecaps press against...
Her face stands separate to mine. Strands of hair flow within the liquid of the casket, as if a plant were thriving right before my very eyes, growing in a basement lab with only the fundamentals around her. She looks at me, pale thin skin, feeble lips, and a slender;...
“Juno, 10 more minutes okay, sweetheart? You can watch the stars another night. It’s getting cold." Juno’s mother wrapped her furry pink robe tighter, sandwiching her shivering hands under the warmth of each armpit. In her mouth, she balanced an almost-exhausted...
Arts and Entertainment
Coronavirus Coverage
Creative Writing
Education
Featured
Food
News
Opinion
Photo/Video
Podcasts
Sports
